Fidelity is Fleeting
by UntamedSpirit
Summary: Hermione was about to spend the two months of summer alone in the Noble House of Black. She had trouble seeing anything noble about that. She should be...well, she couldn't say where she should be...but that didn't stop someone from asking.
1. Chapter 1

**July 31st**

Her lips quivered as his brushed against them, stopping just beneath her mouth. They rested patiently in the small indent of her chin, while she seemed to pause and think. When he felt her lashes tickle invisible lines down his forehead, he brought his lips back up and made firmer contact. His hands clung loosely to the curve of her waist, and his thumbs grazed the edges of her stomach, just under the ends of the light fabric.

He began to push her shirt upward, but he hadn't made more than a wrinkle before her hands took hold of his. Without opening her eyes, she threaded her slender fingers in-between his, bringing them away from her naval. Her shirt didn't fall back into place, and left a sliver of skin revealed. His concentration left their kisses, which were becoming quicker and less precise, as he twisted his wrists in attempt to manipulate her grip. She was delicately refusing his request for control when their noses bumped, and she pulled away, an orangey-pink dappling her cheeks, which strangely matched the colour that was returning to his lips.

She didn't like the dirty feeling that was smudged across her mouth. She forced her breathing to return to normal, even though her heartbeat hadn't, and moved her hand to her face to wipe it. It was then that she noticed their fingers were still laced together.

"Allow me," he said quietly, leading the back of her hand to rub her mouth, and then to his own mouth to kiss the same spot softly.

"I'm sorry if you did not want this," he told her carefully, releasing her hands.

He brushed past her, leaving her staring at the front door, listening to his footsteps as he ascended the staircase. The silver handle beckoned her.

He reached his room and turned to close the door, but she was there in the corridor and in an instant had one foot between the door and the wall. She looked at him anxiously.

"I just didn't expect this."

"Obviously," he replied, opening the door fully and taking a step towards her. She kissed him on the lips, parting her mouth as he kissed back and maneuvered her slowly into the room. She pulled away for a moment, and his hands reached for the exposed skin just below her shirt. Her hands immediately went for his wrists, and he paused to look at her.

"Why must you ruin this?" she asked.

"In all honesty, if there's a different reason you followed me up here, just tell me and I'll stop," he said calmly. She didn't _know_ why she was up here. Her arms fell to her sides, and she made no response; only bit her lip and stared down at his still fingertips.

He started to lift her shirt again, and this time she didn't resist. Even after her shirt hit the floor with an odd flat sound, she didn't move. He took off his own shirt and dropped it by his bare feet. Then he undid her jeans and crouched down as he pulled them to the floor. He saw her bra fall to the floor beside him and smiling slightly, he looked up at her. He stood up, curled his hands around her shoulders and placed two kisses along her collarbone. He moved his fingers to pinch the underwear at her hips and he slid with them to the floor again. They stared at each other intently as he stood again, and he waited to see if she wanted to continue.

After a few moments she removed his trousers and boxers, and then stepped out of her shoes, freeing her ankles and feet. They began to kiss again, and he closed the space between them, feeling her brush up against him and then press down fully as he toppled backwards onto the bed.

He rolled over on top of her and her hands squeezed his shoulder blades before sinking into his hair. They lay fumbling, trying to introduce every patch of untouched skin, and every prominent bone. Their kiss broke off as his lips slipped over the crevice of the corner of her mouth, smearing across her cheek to nuzzle beneath her jawbone. Her chin met the top of his shoulder and settled there. She gazed down the length of his arm and saw no mark. She bit down on her lip and tried to look away.

"Where is he?" he murmered, and she knew she wouldn't be able to stop them. It was as if the words were falling from her lips.

_oh no._

"Godric's Hollow -" she said into his ear, before her breath caught as he licked her lobe. She moaned loudly as he penetrated, and was drawn back to his mouth.

"He's in Godric's Hollow," she breathed against his lips. A hum of recognition sounded from the back of his throat, and his lips came crashing down onto hers again.

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**A/N: Confused? Good. You're supposed to be. I've planned this one carefully. The only difficult part I have to get through is the second chapter - from there on it should be smooth sailing. Oh, pay close attention to the dates because there will be parts that do not go in chronological order. I'll update ASAP – reviews would be lovely.**


	2. Chapter 2

**July 28th**

Hermione had been looking after Harry's owl ever since he had left the summer before. She was sitting with her that morning, just like she had done every morning of her seventh year, only now she was no longer at Hogwarts. Hedwig nudged Hermione's hand affectionately, yet at the same time gave a doleful hoot. It was not unlike the other sounds she made in Harry's absence, but it hung heavily in the air, and they both knew it would be a miserable stay.

Hermione was Harry's secret keeper. For this cause, she had dutifully shut herself up in number 12 Grimmauld Place, which The Order had abandoned several months ago. She felt useless though, and wanted terribly to be with Harry to help him in his search, but there had been no chance to discuss this proposition. The memory of his brief return remained vivid, and during empty moments, it would play over in her mind like some strange form of torture. Sometimes these held imaginary endings of what could have taken place, the things that would have ensued, and where she would be now. Time had not allowed for any of this though, and she was left to face the repercussions of what had really happened.

_-- Flashback --_

Hermione and Ron sat on the couch in the common room in silence, watching the other Gryffindors loll about. A boy, who appeared to be a second year, walked over, talking loudly with his friends. He was about to sit down - on what used to be Harry's favourite armchair - when Ron stood abruptly and almost knocked the boy over.

"Watch where you're going, you lot," Ron said indignantly. The group of boys grumbled and left, a couple throwing glares over their shoulders. Hermione turned her attention away from the crackling fire and looked up at Ron, who was watching them go.

"You can sit back down - they know when to stay away," she said, and then couldn't help but chuckle, "They probably think you've gone mad or something."

"If you say so," Ron replied, overlooking her last comment. After fixing the backs of their heads with one last dirty look, he took a seat.

It was past ten, but Hermione and Ron were not at all sleepy, and they had already resolved to pack in the morning. They remained in their places as the last students climbed the staircases to collect their belongings for the train tomorrow. Almost immediately, Ron sat forward and looked around to make sure there was no one left behind. After a few still moments, Harry removed his invisibility cloak and stretched his legs out, which had been curled up uncomfortably to his chest. Hermione scooted closer to the two boys and Harry leaned in, wiping his glasses and then putting them back on.

"Thought they'd never leave," Harry muttered, taking another cautious glance toward the portrait hole.

"I have to go soon," He began, slowly, "My only route off the grounds is the tunnel to Honeydukes. They lock up tight – the trapdoor, too - so if I don't make it before the owner goes to bed I'll be stuck here all night." That wouldn't be a good situation; he had already risked being seen enough that day.

"But I thought you were going to tell us about - "

"Listen," He said, cutting her off, "I know I haven't told you much - "

"You mean you haven't told us anything," Ron interrupted.

"Yes well I'm aware of that!" Harry snapped. He cleared his throat and looked at Ron apologetically.

"Look, both of you have kept information from me before, and to be honest I never fully forgave you – until now, that is." They remained silent, but their slight frowns betrayed their offence.

"I've realized that it isn't always the right time to tell things. Right now though, it's time for a few of them." Hermione and Ron nodded, not sure what to say, and waited for Harry to continue, which he did in a whisper.

"I've found three of the four remaining," He paused to allow a moment for Hermione and Ron to understand what this meant.

"I've gathered them, but I won't destroy them until I find the last one, so that he thinks he's still ahead of me." Hermione smiled faintly, appreciating how clever Harry could be.

"It's crucial now that no one knows where I am. I need one of you to - " Harry stopped short, hearing a door creak. He threw the invisibility cloak back over himself and Hermione and Ron both stood in front of the armchair. Dean was walking down the stairs, quite oblivious to this.

"Ron, there you are," He paused and raised an eyebrow at them, "er, have you seen my exploding snap cards? I can't find them anywhere and I was almost done packing…" Ron crossed the room hastily and led Dean back up to the dorm. He knew that Dean had meant to search the common room, but made an effort to buy Harry more time. He shot Hermione a look that told her to hurry, and with one last glance to where his best friend was sitting, he disappeared behind the door, not knowing when he would see him again.

Harry watched him go and pulled his cloak off again with a tug. He looked at Hermione with anxious green eyes.

"Hermione, will you be my secret-keeper?" She didn't waste time thinking – the sooner Harry left, the safer he would be. She nodded silently.

"Are you sure?" Harry asked, suddenly hesitant. Hermione got out her wand.

"Yes."

_-- End Flashback--_

Hermione had often wondered in the last two days if the only reason Harry had returned was to perform the fidelius charm and sentence her to this - not to see his best friends, nor to spend a day in their company. Her eyes would well up with anger, and then her throat would burn with guilt as she swallowed these thoughts back.

She knew it wasn't his fault. There was a lot happening and everything depended on him.

A day crept by, and all Hermione could do was think. It was awful. She tried to get her mind off of things by cleaning, but it was only a reminder of previous stays at Grimmauld Place and the people that had been with her. She was thankful that she could fall asleep when it got late, but her night was dreamless and as lonely as the hours of the day.

**July 29th**

Hermione sat cross-legged on what had been her bed for the past two nights, biting half-heartedly into an apple. She watched Hedwig glide around the room, stretching her wings. Hermione decided that if she were an owl she would certainly refuse to live in a cage.

She was nearing the core of the apple, and she swiveled it in her hand to take a last bite, when an open beak snatched it up. A pair of wings flapped a bit too close for comfort and Hermione squeezed her eyes shut in defense.

"Really, Hedwig, you could have given me some sort of warning," she said towards the ceiling, slightly annoyed. Only then did she notice that Hedwig had settled next to her, and was peering curiously at an envelope in Hermione's lap.

A grey owl was perched on the dresser, holding what was left of Hermione's breakfast in its beak. Hermione looked away as the owl turned its piercing eyes on her, and tore open the envelope.

_Hermione Granger,_

_I shall not waste your time with formalities. Although, it has just occurred to me that you have plenty of time to waste these days. Nonetheless, I'm sure you might like to know that I have found something that belongs to Harry Potter. I would like to return it to you personally. Please reply, if only to refuse my request, and I will no longer bother you. If you don't send a reply, I shall have to assume that you did not receive this letter._

_Draco Malfoy_

Hermione read the letter over again, a scowl working its way onto her face. She surveyed the page for a while, fiddling with a loose strip of the envelope. Her irritation was still evident as she dug through the drawers for fresh parchment and a quill. The dresser shook violently and the grey owl hopped off and flew to the windowsill, ruffling its feathers haughtily.

Hermione almost couldn't believe he had the audacity to do something like this. She didn't know how he'd found her here, or what he was really after, but whatever it was she didn't like it.

She dipped her quill in the black ink and with only a moment's thought, began a quick, neat scrawl across the crisp sheet of parchment. She wrote only to inform him that she didn't want to hear from him again.

She was about to sign her name when she reminded herself that it would be a foolish thing to do. Pausing, she took a look at her surroundings – a grimy wooden floor, dusty furniture, peeling wallpaper. Her eyes traveled to the open window, its dirty glass no longer dispelling the sunlight, and then to her paper. Bringing her quill down again, she wrote the word 'Mudblood' in a painfully deliberate movement. She watched as the ink spread, thickening the letters. She found it difficult to hold her gaze.

Dropping her quill onto the bed, Hermione glanced up to find the grey owl about to take off.

She got up quickly, hearing a spring snap behind her.

"Wait!" She shouted, ignoring the sound and venturing over untouched floorboards towards the window. Her knee hit the windowsill as the owl took flight. She stared after it, blankly, as it departed from her room.

"Stupid bird," she mumbled, turning her back to the window and placing her hands on the ledge behind her.

She considered crumpling her reply and tossing it, but something about Draco's letter made her uneasy. The fact that he determined her whereabouts was enough to make her worry, but she also knew he could be very persistent. She would rather not find out what he would do if she didn't respond. Trying not to crease the letter that she still held in her hand, she pushed her palms down and lifted her feet off the floor, sliding backwards to sit on the windowsill.

"Come here, Hedwig. I have a job for you."

* * *

**A/N: It's a bit sad that what took you a few minutes to read, took me several days to put together. Ultimately, I'm sick of this chapter - hopefully your feelings towards it are more pleasant. leave a review, I could really use the feedback. The next chapter...well, I make no promises, but I'm thinking it's going to be a lot longer than this, which would be nice because my chapterstend to be veryunprofessionally short. I'll have it up as soon as I can manage.**


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